


Debrief

by Enchantable



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Abuse, Romance, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-04-23 07:25:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19146304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantable/pseuds/Enchantable
Summary: Neither of them want to be there, she can tell that much just from looking at them. It’s not unusual. Not among the men who come through her office and especially not among the rare same sex couple who seek her out. Michael Guerin and Alex Manes both sit on the couch, Michael perches like he’s about to run at the first opportunity and Alex stares her down like she is going to report anything he says. When people come in with bruises and defiance and a partner, she’s immediately concerned.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Original Prompt: Listen to me, no, you were not aware Michael, this was not you. I know you'd never hurt meYou could never." Alex pleads with panicking Michael. So you know how the synopsis of S2 says Michael sort of spirals, how about drunk angry Michael losing control over his power and accidentally hurt Alex in the bunker and when he wakes up the next day with Alex sort of plastered protectively to his side with a big bruise to his side he's left horrified.

“So,” Dr. Julia looks at the pair sitting in front of her, “why don’t you tell me what brings you in?”

Neither of them want to be there, she can tell that much just from looking at them. It’s not unusual. Not among the men who come through her office and especially not among the rare same sex couple who seek her out. Michael Guerin and Alex Manes both sit on the couch, Michael perches like he’s about to run at the first opportunity and Alex stares her down like she is going to report anything he says. When people come in with bruises and defiance and a partner, she’s immediately concerned.

“I got drunk and hit him.”

Michael speaks bluntly and rubs the raw knuckles of his left hand. She notes the pink and torn skin, like he’s rubbed them with a nail cleaning brush. Alex looks at him, seemingly just as surprised that Michael has spoken first. Michael has sad eyes, red with the tell tale signs of crying and lack of sleep. He can’t look at Alex and she holds his gaze with her own as he continues.

“I lost my mom and my brother,” he continues, “it doesn’t make this better. I drank and last night I was really drunk and—“ he shudders, “I hit him.”

“He thought I was my father,” Alex follows up and Michael lowers his head, curling into himself, “my father was homophobic. Michael was confused.”

“That doesn’t make this better,” Michael snaps and looks at her, “tell him it doesn’t make this better. He doesn’t believe me.”

“She is not going to tell me that,” Alex says.

They both look at her, Alex still defiant and Michael has desperation painted all over his face. Alex doesn’t want to be here but thinks this can help. Michael doesn’t want to be here and thinks she can end this. And there’s more about Alex’s father that somehow plays a role. Abuse always makes her wary, it’s rare that a first time incident has the couple coming in for counseling. Michael looks desperate to get Alex away from him, the question is if he’s willing to be equally desperate to build a healthy relationship with him.

“I’m not going to take sides,” she tells them, “I’m here to facilitate this conversation,” she frowns as Michael gives a curt nod and gets up, “Michael please sit down.”

“I can’t just sit here and pretend like I didn’t hurt him!” Michael says.

“I’m not asking you to do that,” she says, “I’m asking you to sit with your partner and discuss what happened.”

She’s not expecting Michael to look so sick instantly. The color seems to drain out of his face as his eyes move everywhere in the room before settling on Alex. Alex has gone the opposite and his cheeks are flushed with red.

“You told her we were together?” He demands.

“We’re about to be!” Alex defends and then looks at her, “look, we are about to be together. Then this happened—“

“No, no,” Michael cuts in and comes back over, dropping into the chair, “I have been a drunk asshole for the past few months. He is supposed to be away from me. Hitting you undoes everything—“

“No it doesn’t!” Alex cuts in, “he’s grieving,” he says emphatically, “he’s not in his right mind.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Michael says, “So I’m just another person who hurts you? And that’s okay?” He shakes his head, “that’s not okay.”

Dr. Julia listens to the exchange quietly, discerning what she can. The two of them have slowly moved closer to each other on the couch, Michael is careful with his movements and Alex is respectful of his distance, but they shift and lean until they are closer than they were at the start. Instead of focusing on her they’ve started to focus on each other. It’s clear there’s a communication issue they keep running into, both desperate to get their point across and both unable to hear what they’re trying to say.

“I’d like to try something,” she says. They both snap towards her, “Alex why don’t you tell Michael how his behavior makes you feel? Michael I just want you to listen.”

“I’m scared for him,” Alex says. She nods towards Michael. Alex looks at him, “I’m scared for you. I’m scared you’re becoming everything you hate in the world. I’m scared that I did this to you. That it wasn’t just you thinking I was my father, that it’s me you hate,” Alex relaxes a tiny bit, like the weight is a little less. He lays his hand over Michael’s, “I’m scared we’re never going to be okay with each other. After everything—“ he hesitates, “I’m scared we’re just going to punish each other until we hate each other.”

Michael looks crestfallen. Dr. Julia imagines that Alex hasn’t ever actually said things in those words. Tears break free and he scrubs his cheeks with one hand, the other still under Alex’s. Alex twists back and grabs the box of tissues.

“Micheal, what do you want to tell Alex?” She asks.

“That I’m sorry,” Michael says, “I never wanted to hurt you. I wanted to see if you were gonna leave and—“ he wipes under his cheeks, “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I know,” Alex says.

“But I did,” Michael says. Instead of getting up he looks at her, “sorry doesn’t fix it.”

“No,” she agrees, “but committing to your relationship and working through this will be a good step,” she says, “striking your partner—“

“He didn’t strike me,” Alex says. They both look at him, “I just want to be clear. He didn’t clock me.”

“Any type of physical confrontation is not how you communicate,” she says, “not in anger. Michael we need to discuss your addiction and your grief,” she continues, “you need to get sober.”

“I know,” he says, “I don’t know where to start—“

“I’ll give you a referral,” she says, “we can find a place to start,” she looks at Alex, “I would like to discuss the possibility of you joining a group for domestic abuse survivors,” she tells him.

“No,” Alex says, “I’m not—“ he stops as Michael shifts his weight and looks at him, “I’m not!” He protests again.

“Michael, if Alex doesn’t feel comfortable that’s alright,” she says, “group support is not for everyone but it is something I would like you to give some thought to before you say no.”

Alex ducks his head in a slight nod. Michael looks desperate for him to go and get help. Only their still clasped hands and body language seems to communicate the fact that they want to be here. She wonders if either of them have been to actual therapy before or what their experience with it is. She lets them have their moment before clearing her throat lightly and drawing their attention back to her.

“Before we wrap this up, I’d like you to tell me why you said that you were partners and Michael, why did you react the way you did? Alex, let’s start with you.”

“I love him,” Alex says, “I’m not a saint in this relationship I’ve messed up too,” he says, “we went on our first date a few days ago. We joked about it but I was happy,” he says, emphasizing the word, “happy that were getting that chance to do things right. I’m not willing to just give up. But I want us to be partners in this.”

Dr. Julia looks at Michael who looks similar to how he did when she said that before. Pale and surprised. He looks young in a very sick way. She watches him tentatively settle his hand over Alex’s and twist towards him.

“I didn’t think you’d want to be with me after what I did,” he says, “I don’t know if you should—“ he shakes his head, “but I love you, you know? It’s always been you. I don’t want to give up on it either.”

“Where was the date?” She asks.

“At the Dennys,” Alex says.

“We gotta have a better first date,” Michael mutters, turning red.

“I like that being our first date,” Alex says, covering his hand with his own.

Dr. Julia gives them their referrals and sees them out, making her notes on the session and booking the next one. She’s sad when they cancel and surprised when they reschedule for a week later. She finds them in the waiting room. Michael looks horrible in that way someone whose been through detox recently looks. He’s curled into himself. Alex’s bruise is nearly gone. He’s got one hand around Michael’s shoulders, talking to him softly. They both look when she steps out and get to their feet. Their hands find each other.

“Come on back,” she says, “it’s nice to see you both again.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Prompt: Could you do a follow up for the therapy prompt of Alex either going to the group session or struggling to come to terms with deciding to go. Thank you for your time ♥️

Isobel greets him at the door.

She looks pale and she’s dressed in leggings and a tank top, her hair pulled back off her face. Worry is etched into her skin and there’s a sleepless night on her face. Her eyes glance at the bruising that’s still on his cheek.

“Alex—“

“No. Where is he?” Alex demands, not caring when she tries to block him, “Isobel—“ there’s a crash that they both whip towards but when he starts forward she steps in front of him, “please.”

“He doesn’t want you here,” Isobel says, “he’s scared he’s going to hurt you. You know that,” her face falls, “please just—“ she turns back towards the house and then back at him, “he can’t have you here right now.”

Alex glares because he doesn’t believe that for a second. Michael is in there going through withdrawal. That crash was a very human crash. Isobel isn’t the kind of person who backs off when she’s said no and she sure as hell doesn’t do that when it comes to Michael. There’s no recourse. But Alex refuses to surrender. His one shot at this shifting in his favor comes over. Michael looks bad. Alex has seen him look bad before but this—only the knowledge that Michael can’t go to the hospital saves him from calling 911 right there. Michael’s eyes trail across his face and settle on the bruises.

“Is it Monday?” He rasps.

“Don’t worry about that,” Alex says, realizing that MIchael is actually thinking about going to their therapy session, “Isobel—“ he glares when she smacks a hand between them.

“Iz,” Michael says.

“No, no!” Isobel cuts in, “you have broken everything in your room. I’m not putting you back on the path to relapsing before you’re done detoxing. And you,” she says to Alex, “need to respect that he cannot see you hurt right now.”

“I get that,” Alex says and doesn’t move.

“He’s just gonna go through the window,” Michael says before his features draw together in confusion and then horror. He scrambles away and Alex winces at the sound.

“If he loses control you are going to want to leave,” Isobel tells him.

Alex nods, he can live with that.

He finds Michael in the bathroom, hunched over the toilet as his entire body heaves. Alex can feel the power coming off of him and waits until there’s a break in his heaving before he approaches. There’s nothing left for Michael to throw up besides bile. Alex flushes the toilet and crouches down besides him. Michael coughs and hangs his head over the bowl.

“I really wish you had decided to be here some other time,” he says.

“Come here,” Alex tells him.

It’s like coaxing a wild animal, but Alex gets Michael to lay with his head in his lap. Michael shakes against him, and Alex looks through his symptoms one handed and carefully combs through his curls with the other.

“When was your last dose?” He asks.

“A week ago,” Michael says through gritted teeth. Alex’s hand stills and Michael looks up, “I told you I’m getting clean,” he says.

“You’ve been like this for a week?” Alex demands.

“No,” he says, “six days.”

Alex’s jaw falls open. Michael turns his face into his thigh with a groan. Alex feels his back muscles spasm. The only thing he can do is lean over his body, trying to comfort him as much as he can. Michael’s masochistic streak can be a mile wide and Alex knows that. They, unfortunately, have it in common. He can’t tell Michael not to do stuff like this or give into the urge to just pour acetone down his throat. All he can do is wrap his arms around him.

“It’s Monday,” Michael breathes against his leg, “therapy—“

“No,” Alex says firmly, “I’m calling her and telling her you’re sick. We’ll reschedule for next week.”

“No,” Michael says emphatically, “we said we were doing this. We’re going.”

Alex rolls his eyes. Michael can’t get to his feet for extended periods of time, let alone make to the therapists office. He looks at the broken tile. They also can’t risk Michael using his powers. It makes him sick to think that anyone out there thinks Michael physically harmed him instead of just lost control of his powers.

“Not this week,” he says. “People call in sick all the time,” he continues, “you need to get clean. She said that was important.”

“She’s gonna think I’m drinking,” MIchael mutters into his thigh.

“We’ll explain you powered through the withdrawal next week,” he promises him, “right now we can’t go. I want to take you to a hospital and I know what’s going on.”

Michael just groans this time and Alex pushes himself up, fishing his phone out of his pocket. He’s never actually had to lie about Michael being an alien before. But Michael is in his lap groaning and Alex forces himself to focus on the other lies he’s successfully told. Dr. Julia picks up a few rings in before it goes to her voicemail.

“Hello Alex,” she says.

“Hi,” he replies, “we can’t come in.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she says, her voice infuriatingly neutral, “what is that sound?”

“MIchael has food poisoning,” he replies.

“Food poisoning?” She repeats.

“Yes,” he says, “he’s insisting on coming and I’m trying to tell him we can’t.”

“Can he speak to me?” She asks.

He taps Michael’s shoulder but Michael’s already reaching for the phone.

“I’m sorry,” he says instantly, “I wanted to—“ he pauses and sighs, “I’m going cold turkey,” he listens, “well it kind of feels like I do—“ he stops again, “no I’ve just been sick and shaky. My sister’s been with me,” he listens, “uh huh. Okay,” he shoves the phone up at him, “she wants to talk to you.”

Alex takes the phone.

“Are you in any danger?” She asks.

“No, I just got here,” he says, “he’s not dangerous—“

“Alex, lying to protect him is not going to help you heal.”

Alex sorely wishes that he was in a world where he could say that he knows. That he isn’t signing up for endless lies about what Michael is. That lying is more a fixture in his life than he can ever fully admit and he doesn’t always know what the truth is anymore. It’s his job, his family, the man he loves. He doesn’t need to heal, he needs to keep Michael safe. But usually people believe his lies. He doesn’t really like being called out.

“I want to respect his choice,” he says.

“I know,” Dr. Julia says, “do you think that’s healthy?”

Alex knows the right answer.

“I don’t know,” he admits.

“Please give some thought to the support group,” she says, “Michael should be though the worst of the symptoms after a week but he may still need to go to the hospital.”

“Alright,” he says.

“Would you like to reschedule your appointment?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He hangs up the phone after their new appointment is on the books. Michael presses himself up which leaves Alex’s thigh cold. He tenses, waiting for him to rush to the toilet but Michael just rests his head against the wall and pushes his hand though his curls.

“I think—“

“No,” Alex says.

“You have to think about it,” Michael says, “look, there’s a lot I can’t change about what I am—I know you’re not asking me to. And this isn’t the same,” he looks over at Alex, “but you can’t always be the one whose lying for me.”

“I’m not,” Alex protests but it sounds weak even to his ears, “I can’t just sit there and act like you’re abusive. You aren’t. You lost control of your powers for the first time in twenty years.”

“Because I was high,” Michael says miserably.

Alex looks over at him and sees the desperation shining in his eyes.

“We can’t be like—“ he closes his eyes, “I don’t wanna be like our dads.”

Alex’s heart lurches. Looking in the mirror and seeing his father was horrific and he’s worked so damn hard not to do that anymore. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to go to group counseling like the therapist is suggesting. Couples therapy seems like such a monumental thing.  Michael’s breath is god awful but he doesn’t care as he presses his forehead to his. Michael tenses—or tries to—but the tremors racing through him prevent that from sticking. He presses back against Alex.

“We’re not going to be,” Alex says firmly, “do you believe me?” Michael nods.

After Michael has gone for long enough without vomiting they make their way into the bedroom. Everything broken is an understatement for the state of things. It’s the first time he’s slept with his prosthetic on, but that matters less than holding Michael through his seventh night of tremors. Sleeping in the same bed with him again is strange, even after a week, but it’s also the best sleep he’s had the whole time. It starts out with him holding Michael with his back against his chest, but sometime in the middle of the night Michael’s pathological need to cuddle takes over and it winds up with them holding each other, Michael’s head somewhere around his collar bone. When he wakes up in the morning, Michael’s on top of him and he’s got one arm banded around him and the other flung over his eyes to block the sun. The only thing that matters in the morning is that Michael’s no longer shaking.

Instead he’s just snoring against his chest.

Alex tightens his arms around him and drifts back off.


	3. Chapter 3

“Those men were monsters,” Alex says shaking his head as he works over the stove, unable to sit still, “the things they did to those women—“ he swallows, “I can’t go back there.”

Michael watches him. He’s tense and upset, that much is clear and Michael wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around him and tell him he doesn’t have to do it. Doesn’t have to go back. But he can also see the bruise around Alex’s eye. Even though it’s only in his head now, he can still see it. He knows the situation isn’t that simple, that he was truly just trying to give a warning to a ghost in the middle of that night terror. But the ghost of Jesse Manes wasn’t there and it was Alex who once again wound up paying the price. Michael shifts on the chair as Alex looks to him for support and he has to give him something else. 

“I think you should,” he says. 

“What?” Alex looks confused and, worse of all, hurt, “no. I’m not sitting there like you’re some—some dick who abused me. That’s not who you are.”

“I gave you a black eye!”

“You lost control of your powers during a nightmare about my father,” Alex says, pointing at him with the spatula like that makes this better, “you didn’t mean to—“

“That doesn’t make it better!” Michael cries, unwilling to hear Alex say more on the subject, “take powers out of it and I—I what? I pushed you into the table?” He shakes his head, “you should go. The fact that you can justify it means you should go.” 

He recognizes the tense set of Alex’s jaw and the look in his eyes that’s some mix of betrayal and disappointment. Michael hates betraying Alex and he hates letting him down in equal measure. But above all things, he hates Alex being in danger because of him. That’s the bitch of it, really. They can go to therapy and they can talk to Dr. Julia about the issues Alex has with protecting Michael and what happened with his dad. But they can’t talk to her about Michael without some bold faced lie happening. They can’t say that Michael is an alien and has some unique issues stemming from the fact that he’s got superpowers. They can’t say what happened. Every time Dr. Julia stresses honesty, Michael feels lower than dirt. His entire life has depended on keeping this secret and suddenly he’s having issues with lying. Maybe because his entire life has depended on keeping his mouth shut and now he’s sharing things. 

“I’m not going and pretending you have anything in common with those men,” Alex says. 

“What about what you have in common with the women?” Michael demands. 

Alex shuts down instantly and, to be fair, Michael is aware that he has steamrolled over that line. But fuck he hates it when Alex shuts down like he does that instant. He says absolutely nothing and only fear for his life keeps Michael from saying he’s not hungry. He really only planned on coming over to be supportive and somehow he gets the feeling he’s made things a lot worse. The problem with fucking up and not being high is that you have to be aware you’ve fucked up. And as Alex looks anywhere but him, Michael has never wanted to be high more in his entire life. He waits until Alex is up and has glared at him to stop with helping with anything, dishes and life issues included, to open his mouth. 

“This is never going to be fair to you,” he says. Alex’s entire body stiffens, “I lied to everyone for most of my life,” he says, “Max and Isobel included,” he continues, “you think it’s not going to affect you but it does,” he gets up, “Alex, I don’t want you to be like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you have no-one!” Michael says and winces because the last thing this conversation needs is his abandonment issues or another thing that Alex is hurt about, “you have something in common with them.”

Alex glares ahead and his gaze is still hard when he looks at Michael.

“You are not a monster,” he says. 

“I mean I’m an alien—“

“No,” Alex cuts in, turning to face him fully, “you need to listen to me,” Michael feels the smile slip off his face, “you are not a monster. You lost control of your powers accidentally and whatever we tell anyone, whatever lies we have to give, I need you to understand that losing control of them does not make you a monster.” 

Michael swallows against the emotion that clogs his throat. He wants to lie and say he believes Alex, but all he can see is the bruise and the way that Alex’s thought process has only been for him. Honesty is the most precious thing he can give and in a lifetime of lies and wanting to tell the truth, he finds the opposite is true for the first time. He wants to lie and tell Alex he agrees, but his words slip like blades over his skin and he can’t. 

“Yeah, Alex,” he says, “it kind of does.” 

“Stay here,” Alex says as he steps back, “Michael—“

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, already going for the door. 

Alex’s expression chases him back to Isobel’s house.

* * *

 

Dr. Julia definitely knows something is up, but the woman has a poker face. She looks at them sitting with a seat between them and because the universe hates him, she looks at Michael. 

“Do you want to speak to me alone beforehand?” She asks. 

Michael doesn’t know what it’s like to have a parent and Max is a hell of a lot less direct. He finds himself withering under her gaze and nods, pushing himself up and shuffling into the room. She sits down and looks at him calmly. Michael gulps and wonders if it’s possible for awkwardness and embarrassment to kill a person. Maybe his species is allergic and maybe this can just be how he goes. 

“I’m not angry,” Michael blurts out. Her expression is unreadable so he continues. “Look I know that everything you know about me makes it seem like I’m angry but I’m not.”

“What would you say you are?” She asks. 

Michael barely resists the urge to tell her that’s what he pays her for. She waits calmly and Michael fights and squirms and then finally surrenders.

“Scared,” he admits, “I’m scared I’m gonna push him away.”

“Michael this isn’t just about Alex,” she says and Michael shakes his head. 

“Right now it is,” he says. 

Dr. Julia nods and looks at him seriously. 

“I would like to bring Alex in,” She says. Michael nods. Alex comes in and sits on the couch, “I would like to discuss what happened the night you came into my office,” she says, “Alex why don’t you start.”

Michael wishes it was two minutes ago and he could say he’s not ready for Alex to come in. He’s not sure he’s ready to hear this either. Alex is a good liar about most things. He’s got tells though, especially when it comes to lying about bruises. Michael’s suddenly in the same category as Jesse Manes. Alex looks Dr. Julia dead in the eye. 

“He was having a nightmare and I tried to wake him up. I know better,” Michael’s nails dig into his hands, “but I heard him say my name and I tried to wake him up,” he says, “I grabbed his wrists when he started to flail and I wound up just holding onto one. He wasn’t awake when he did it, I lost my balance which didn’t help,” he continues, “I fell and hit the table on the way down.”

“Thank you,” She says and looks at Michael, “Michael would you tell us about it?”

“Same thing he said,” Michael says, “I had a nightmare, I pushed him into the table.”

“You didn’t push me,” Alex says, “I fell.”

“I pushed you and you fell,” Michael says, “maybe your dad was right and maybe I am bad for you,” he blurts out, “maybe you should have stayed away.”

“Michael!” Alex stares at him, horrified and Michael shakes his head.

“Michael why are you afraid of hurting him?” Dr. Julia asks, “this doesn’t seem like an accident to you.”

Michael really doesn’t like how good this chick is at her job. Alex opens and closes his mouth before turning to look at him. Alex has definitely at least sort of realized there’s something more going on, but Michael’s good at brushing all of it off. He’ll trade everything for people not worrying about him. Dr. Julia though doesn’t know that about him and if she did, Michael’s pretty sure it wouldn’t matter. He doesn’t want to say this with Alex sitting there, he could ask him to leave and he would. But something in him makes him stop and consider it before he cracks his knuckles. 

“I’m not good,” he mumbles. Alex looks at Dr. Julia but she just waits, “I’m not a good person,” Michael says, “this is stupid,” he says, scrubbing at his face to make sure no tears have fallen. But he still manages to need to sniffle, “it’s dumb,” he repeats, “Alex?”

“His brother and sister—“ Alex looks towards him and Michael nods, “they got adopted and he was left behind,” he says, “I got forced into joining the Air Force after what happened with his hand,” Alex explains, “it didn’t help.”

“Did you age out of the system?” Dr. Julia asks. Micheal nods.

“I ran away from my last foster father at seventeen,” Michael explains.

“Being angry about this doesn’t make you bad,” she says.

“I’m not angry,” Michael protests, surprised at how firm his voice is, “I’m not. I get it,” he says, “it’s something wrong with me—“

“No,” Alex says emphatically, scooting closer before Michael can get up. It hurts to be touched initially but Alex pushes past that and holds him, “the Evan’s did a shitty thing. That doesn’t make you a bad person. Or it makes you the same kind of bad person I am,” He tightens his arm around his shoulders, “I was a scared kid, but me leaving you behind wasn’t because you were trouble or because you were hurt. We both wanted to protect each other. We’re going to make mistakes. That’s okay. We’ve found our way back to each other-“

“I don’t want to keep finding our way back,” Michael says and his voice isn’t steady, “I just want to stay here.”

“We can,” Alex says. He looks at Michael desperately, “do you believe that at all?”

Michael shrugs but he also gropes for Alex’s hand and laces their fingers together. Alex keeps a tight grip on him even though it aches. Michael looks up to see Dr. Julia looking at him, but he only holds her gaze for a moment before looking over at Alex. Alex smiles gently and Michael leans his head on his shoulder, still fighting the urge to fall completely apart like he refuses to let himself do.

“That’s all the time we have,” Dr. Julia says, “I’ll see you both next week.”

* * *

 

“We forgot to talk about you and the group,” Michael realizes as they pull up in the cabin.

“I think,” Alex frowns thoughtfully, “maybe I should keep going.”

“That’s good,” Michael says. He swallows, “I think I maybe I should see her one on one for a bit.”

Alex looks at him.

“I think that’s a good idea,” he says. 

Michael nods and looks at the cabin. He lingers, collecting his thoughts as Alex gets out of the car. He moves with that same odd grace he’s always had, that’s always caught Michael’s eye. Finally he gets out of the car. His mouth is dry as he looks at his back and he rubs his knuckles as he approaches the front door.

“Hey, uh, Alex?” Alex turns and looks at him, “can I spend the night?”

Happy surprise flares in Alex’s eyes and that’s more than enough to ease Michael’s misgivings. He hasn’t spent a night in the cabin since that night. And the last time they slept together was at Isobel’s house during his detox. But Alex is happy and surprised since Michael usually shuts the topic down. 

“Of course,” Alex says, “I’d really like that.”

Michael smiles for the first time in days.

They go into the cabin together. 


End file.
